


Long Time, No See

by Kicker



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Alcohol, Established Relationship, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut, Strip Tease, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 06:34:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7256347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kicker/pseuds/Kicker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danse and his General have been separated for two months. While she's been in Diamond City, he's been in the Castle, alternately bored out of his mind or being tormented by Deacon and MacCready. Finally, though, he received an invitation.</p>
<p>  Come to Diamond City. Bring a suit. </p>
<p>This is the story. Well, part of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Time, No See

**Author's Note:**

> This is from a series of [prompt-based 500-ish word minifics](http://kickerwrites.tumblr.com/tagged/minific) I've been doing on tumblr (this particular one started [here](http://kickerwrites.tumblr.com/post/146170381550/35-dansefss)).
> 
> A load of them have ended up in the same universe/gamestate, for one reason or another, so there's a little story running through.
> 
> You don't really need any background to, uh, enjoy this instalment but this is post-game, Minutemen ending, Danse has unfortunately gone through Blind Betrayal but has had a few months to come to terms with it all. Oh and Hancock has been cockblocking for a couple of days, but he's just left to go back to Goodneighbor.

“You heard me. Take. It. Off."

He's gotten brave, after a few months outside the Brotherhood. Not battle-brave, you understand, he always had that. People-brave. Even since she'd left him in the Castle, there'd been a bit of a change. Better able to see through people's shit.

"Oh," she says. "You... you don't like the dress?"

"You know that's not what I mean," he says.

See?

He'd run his fingers down her side, around her waist, watching the sparks fly from the sequin-covered fabric. Spent approximately ten seconds looking for a zip before giving up and just telling her what he wanted.

_Take it off._

Why waste time?

Well. Because that's what makes it fun. And, after all, the guy's probably never had a proper show before.

"Alright," she says. "Why don't you take a seat."

"Because you're over here," he says.

Though impressed by the smooth reply, she pokes a finger into his chest and pushes him away, back toward the couch. He looks a little stuffy, still, that bow-tie tight around his neck, so before she lets him sit she loosens it and smoothes the ends down over his shirt.

The tie was a little gift to him, from Hancock.

She pushes him down onto the seat, into which he sinks with a confused expression on his face. When he starts to speak, she presses a gloved finger over his lips. She grabs a bottle of scotch and pours a glass, taking a sip before she presses it into his hand. He tries to catch her fingers but the smooth material slides out of his grasp.

The gloves were Hancock's gift to her. An unsurprisingly perceptive gift.

Standing in the middle of the room, facing him, she reaches her hands up behind her neck. She undoes the top fastening. Then she lets her hands down, one by one, the first to hold the dress closed, the second to undo the zip. She lets it down, as far as it can go, then turns around.

She pulls the dress from one shoulder, making sure he has enough time to appreciate the exposed flesh. Then she pulls it from the other side, in a similar fashion. She pulls the sleeves down her arms, and looks back at him.

His eyes are wide, and dark. Those beautiful lips of his are parted, as though he's forgotten to close them. And his hand's clutched around that glass of scotch like he's forgotten it's there but he _really_ needs it to be.

He really has never seen a show like this before.

She gives a light shrug of her shoulders, to release her arms from the sleeves. Then a delicate sway of the hips, to push the dress down over them. Then she lets it fall to the floor, the sparkling material piling up around her shoes. It makes a gentle tinkling sound, like tinsel falling off a Christmas tree.

She steps out of it.

Tip-tap.

Standing tall, she inspects her hands for a little while before looking back at him.

"More?" she says.

He nods.

She loosens one glove, finger by finger, before using her teeth to drag it off her hand. Thus released, she waggles her fingers, then takes the glove and tosses it toward him.

He catches it.

She loosens the other glove in the same way, but this one she pulls off with her hand, and keeps a hold of it. She steps in close between his knees, which part for her without question. She drapes the glove around his neck, and uses it to pull him in close for the briefest of kisses, before pushing him back down onto the couch.

"More?" she says, with a tilt of the head.

He nods.

There's not much left to shed, so she'll have to make it last.

She steps out into the room again, seeing the dress still crumpled on the floor.

"Oh," she says. "That won't do."

She brings her feet together neatly, and bends over, legs straight, ass high. What with the high heels and the lack of practice, the pose stretches the muscles all the way up the back of her legs. A warm-up exercise, she thinks, wryly. He's usually quite... vigorous, and it's been a couple of months since they had any time alone.

At the lowest point of the bend, her fingertips curling into the fabric, she looks behind her, and catches him adjusting his pants.

His hand flies away, slapping down on the couch.

"Don't hold back," she says, straightening up, the dress in her hands. She holds it up to catch the light. A fine dress, that had certainly had the right effect. It just wouldn't do to leave it crumpled on the floor. So she folds it, carefully, slowly, and puts it back in the trunk from which it came.

"Now where was I," she muses, turning away from him again. "Oh yes."

She unclips the bra, letting the two sides spring free. As before, she slides off one strap, then the other, then holds it over her breasts by the edges of the cups and turns around.

His hand's now openly on his pants, gently palming himself through the fabric. If he keeps that up, he's going to explode the moment she touches him.

She chances a little shimmy, anyway.

Two months, it's been, two months of chores and fetching and polite company. Two months of ferrying people and items and junk from one place to another. And before that, months of sitting around in a Castle full of people who wouldn't be outraged to hear their shenanigans, but at least ought to be spared them at full volume.

Forget about whether he's going to explode, the aching need in her pussy tells her she's going to come as soon as he touches it.

Soon, she tells herself.

She turns away, and whips off the bra, twirling it in her hand and tossing it back over her shoulder. She covers her breasts with her hands and turns around to face him, adopting the most pin-up hip-drop she can manage.

"More?" she says.

Apparently, he's had enough of being teased.

He puts his glass aside, pulls himself upright, and crosses the floor to meet her. He pulls her hands away from her chest, replacing them with his own, with his mouth, leaning down to suck at her nipples and the delicate skin around them. After a deep bite at her neck that's sure to leave a mark, he kisses her deeply, puts his arms around her back, and pulls her against him so she can feel his need.

It's pretty big, by now.

"Shall we go to bed?" he asks.

"No," she says.

He swallows, and pulls her against him again as if to say _are you sure_?

She pulls gently at the collar of his jacket, and spends about ten seconds running her fingers over the buttons of the shirt before looking up into his deep brown eyes.

"Take it off," she says.

It's only fair, really.

Leaving him in the middle of the room, she takes his position on the couch, retrieving his glass and draining it of the last dregs. She sits back, crosses her legs, and nods at him to begin.

"It's alright," she says. "You don't have to dance, or anything."

He doesn't react to the pun, but he does pull the jacket from his shoulders, albeit a little awkwardly. He folds it, and puts it on top of the storage trunk, just having to bend over slightly to place it there.

She's still trying to look at his ass when he turns around.

"More?" he says.

"Of course," she says.

He starts to unbutton the shirt, but he's forgotten the tie, still hanging loose either side of his collar. That will never do.

"Come here," she says.

He frowns, but does as she says.

She reaches up, grabs one end of the tie, and pulls it loose. He lets himself be pulled along with it, snatching an illicit kiss that isn't quite as brief as the one she'd stolen from him, along with the gloves. She starts to tell him so, to tell him to get on with it.

He presses a finger over her lips.

He unbuttons every single button on his shirt, and folds it as infuriatingly slowly as the jacket. And he definitely bends a little further than he needs to when he places it on top of it on the trunk.

He always was a quick learner.

"More?" he says.

She nods.

He starts to loosen his belt, but then begins to look around as though he's forgotten something. Then, cruelly, he actually does the belt back up before heading over to the other side of the room to fetch the bottle.

She can't think of anything she wants in her mouth less than scotch, but at least it brings him closer to her. It gives a far better view of the muscled chest, the hair, the scars, and the tattoo that make him him.

He fills the glass, takes a sip, and hands it back to her. His fingers brush against hers, then he leans to put down the bottle. Not stepping away, he loosens the belt again, pulling it a little way before holding the buckle out to her with a smile that he tries to hide. Audience participation, at its finest. She draws it out, catching the end. She flexes the leather in her hands, folding it over and pulling it taut with a sharp snap.

His eyes darken. Interesting response.

She rolls it up and puts it to one side. Maybe something to come back to later.

He unbuttons the pants and lets them drop to the floor, in a crumpled pile of dark material. He steps out of them, then bends right over to pick them up, with a sly glance behind him. That glorious ass is just there, just out of reach.

She clutches the glass, presses her thighs together, and tries not to put words to her desperate need to touch him.

Soon, she thinks. Soon.

Painstakingly, with military precision, he folds the trousers and places them with the rest of his clothes. He saunters across the room in only his underpants, his cock straining at the fabric. He stands in front of the couch, and holds out his hand. Pulling her to her feet, he resumes their former position, holding her close against him.

"We're even," he says. "Now can we go to bed?"

She reaches down, and grabs his ass with both hands, pulling him even closer.

"I don't think we're gonna make it that far," she says.

He picks her up, bodily, and dumps her on the couch. "Neither do I," he says.  
  
With a growl, he tears off the panties, almost scratching her in his haste to pull them down her legs. He takes off the heels and tosses them aside, too, shedding his own underpants with little finesse before positioning himself by her ankles. She parts them for him, stroking up his leg with the side of her foot, beckoning him in with a curling finger.

He makes his way up to her, pausing briefly between her thighs, ducking his head in close to torment her with his tongue, a single swirl around her clit that sends a shockwave rushing through her whole body. She gasps, her back already stiffening, half-wanting to grab fistfuls of hair and make him stay down there. But then his cock will be left unattended for even longer, and that's not fair on either of them.

He continues up, nipping skin with teeth, warming it with his breath, until they're lined up, eye to eye, chest to chest, cock to pussy.

They've both had enough of the teasing.

His cock slides inside her, filling her up. She barely has time to adjust before he's putting his whole body into every thrust, grunting with exertion, sweat already beading on his brow. His head drops down, watching as his cock disappears inside her, again and again. She knows he is, because she is too, and it's hypnotic. Not to mention, it feels incredible.

He drops down onto his elbows over her, pressing her into the cushions. Robbed of the view, she hooks her feet around his back to pull him in closer, and rakes her fingers through his hair.

"I missed you," he says.

He catches her knee in his elbow, and pulls her legs wider apart. His cock starts making contact with the spot inside her that makes stars appear in front of her eyes. The pressure builds, and builds, and builds, hovering just tantalisingly below release. All the while his thrusts are getting wilder and more erratic. He's biting his lip, hard, his fingers on her shoulder are clenching and unclenching, and his head drops down low beside hers.

"Come for me," he says, low, in her ear. "Right now. Please."

Whether on command or by accident, her body chooses that moment to release, her hips bucking against him, her pussy clenching tight around him. She sees nothing, hears nothing, everything gone except for that incredible pleasure that comes and goes far too quickly.

When she can see again, and hear again, in fact when any of her senses have returned, she finds him lying heavy on top of her. His arms are wrapped tight under her back, his face pressed into her neck. Both their hearts are beating fit to burst, and his cock is still inside her, softening, but still very much there.

He smiles against the side of her face, and presses damp kisses up her jaw.

"I missed you too," she says, running her fingers over his ear, laughing when he leans into the touch like a cat. "I shouldn't have left it so long."

"Just means I'm not going to leave until you make me," he says.

"Okay," she says. "I'm not going to make you."

"Well then," he says. "Looks like we'll be trapped for a while."


End file.
